


Please Don't Go

by starseeker95



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 02:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14322195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/pseuds/starseeker95
Summary: Rodimus is having a hard time. Hopefully, his conjunx can help him see the light.





	Please Don't Go

Why was he such an idiot?

Rodimus struggled to hold his helm high as he traversed the halls of the Lost Light, headed for the safety of his habsuite. Bots passed him without as much as a glance, busily talking amongst themselves or on their way to meet friends. No one had time to spare for the captain, it seemed. Not that he deserved their attention or loyalty anyway.

He’d done it again. Acted without thinking. Rodimus practically stabbed the code into keypad to his room, feeling the sting as his fingertips almost dented under the pressure. Somehow, it soothed him. Brushing the thought from his processor, Rodimus hurriedly stumbled into the darkness of his hab.

He didn’t bother to que on the lights. Instead, the flame-colored mech dragged his peds all the way to his berth where he collapsed. He didn’t deserve this ship or those that he called friends. After was happened with Drift, how could the swordsmech even look at him without feeling betrayal and disgust? 

And the lives that had depended on him, the bots who had depended on him to keep them safe. He had failed so profoundly. Was Optimus going to be forever disappointed in him? Rodimus knew it had been a mistake. The Matrix must’ve been desperate for a host; there was no reason that it would choose someone who couldn’t even protect his friends and family.

His family.

Rodimus threw himself off of the berth and began to pace rapidly. Nyon and his family. The bots and streets and sky that he’d all called home. He had destroyed it all with his own hands-

And his conjunx? Rodimus laughed dryly at the thought of his conjunx, so strong and yet so gentle with him. The way the silver mech would whisper sweet lies into his audial as they made love. Those black servos, caressing his frame in ways far too caring for the likes of Rodimus. The young prime always shied from such sentiments and touches, believing that he didn’t deserve to be treated with such devotion.

A strange sound squeaked from his vocalizer. Abruptly, Rodimus recognized it as a sob. How pathetic. Instead of fixing his mistakes, all he could do was hide in his hab and cry. The young prime swept a yellow servo under his left optic, smearing optic cleaner across his cheeks. Frustrated with himself, he continued pacing the room.

He moved like a mech cornered, turning tightly and quickly. He kept his optics on the floor as his throat cables tightened to the point of pain. He’d been a fool to think that he was special, that he was worth something-

Rodimus caught one of his peds on the edge of his desk. Pain arched up and throughout his leg, drawing a curse form the speedster. The red and yellow mech leaned against the desk and bent to study the ped for visible damage and, finding none, Rodimus lowered it back to the ground. As the pain faded, Rodimus felt as if some of his stress and self-hate fled with it.

Rodimus parted the armor on his left wrist, baring the protoform underneath. He pressed a fingertip against the warm material and watched as it gave under the pressure only to resume its shape when he took his finger away. Experimentally, he pressed harder, enough to be uncomfortable. 

As if on autopilot, Rodimus moved toward his desk. He barely saw the old sketches he’d scratched into it’s surface as he reached to open one of the drawers. Brushing aside some of the datapads he’d thrown inside, he finally found what he’d been looking for.

With shaking yellow fingers, he balanced the stylus in his fingertips. It was the one he’d used to carve some of the drawings into his desk. It should do the job well enough. Unable to quell his tears any longer, Rodimus rushed to part his armor again. 

The soft protoform pulsed as he brushed a fingertip across the inside of his wrist. Rodimus lifted the stylus to lightly drag the tip against it. I wouldn’t take much. Just enough to push it all down again and then he’d-

A loud beep sounded followed by the whoosh of his habsuite door opening.

Rodimus froze. What he had been about to do to himself… it registered then, as if the sound of the door were enough to break him from a trance. The red and yellow mech continued to stare down at the stylus where the tip had begun to dig into his delicate protoform. He watched as a single droplet of energon escaped from the wound to trail down the side of his wrist.

Footsteps. Quickly approaching.

Rodimus had no time to react before the stylus was being taken from his grip. He felt his injured wrist pulled forward by whoever had ahold of him. Instinctively, the young prime shrank back until his back met the wall behind his desk. 

Megatron’s deep voice was stern but calm, berating him from far away, “-you thinking? Why do something this stupid, Rodimus? Something so foolish-“

Stupid. Foolish. These words were far more appropriate for describing him than those murmured in the berth. Rodimus vaguely felt his shoulders being gripped as the older mech tried to get his attention. The prime's spinal strut clanked harshly against the wall as he tried to pull back again. He deserved this-

Then, it all stopped. The big black servos left him frame entirely as their owner stepped back. Rodimus, confused, looked up from where he’d fixed his optics on the floor.

Megatron was looking down at him. His ruby optics were filled with horror as his gaze flicked from Rodimus to his own servos. The smaller mech watched as the ex-warlord’s face contorted from shocked disappointment to deep sorrow. Unable to watch Megatron blame himself, Rodimus cast his optics back to the floor. Anywhere but Megatron’s visage.

Rodimus flinched when Megatron’s fingertip brushed under his chin. Immediately, his co-captain’s servo withdrew. “Rodimus? May I touch you?”

Without looking up and feeling sheepish, Rodimus nodded. Of course Megatron could touch him, he was his conjunx after all. It took him a moment to realize that he’d spoken aloud.

Megatron slipped a single fingertip under Rodimus’s chin and pressed upward. The prime offered little resistance as the towering ex-Decepticon tilted his helm up. Within moments, Rodimus was again looking up at Megatron. His conjunx voice was a soft whisper now, holding none of the quiet anger from before. “I am sorry. What ails you so, my Sun?”

The deep voice, usually so strong and reassuring, broke at the end of the question, making a choking sound in Megatron’s vocalizer. Shame filled Rodimus, consuming him so fully that it bled into his field without warning. When Megatron suddenly stiffened upon reading the distress in Rodimus' field, Rodimus couldn’t control his sobs any longer. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m stupid! I swear I’ll be better! I’m sorry!”

The silver mech stared momentarily before abruptly pulling Rodimus into his arms. The smaller co-captain came willingly, collapsing against his conjunx’s chest as he cried. “It’s just so hard sometimes- I-I can’t- I just-“

“Hush, Rodimus, you don’t have to say anything right now. It’s not your fault.”

“But-“

“We have talked about this, my little love.”

“I know- It’s just so much-“

Megatron cradled his distressed conjunx to his broad chest. Rodimus was all too happy to bury his helm against the warm plating, calming himself as he listened to the powerful point one percenter spark that swirled under the armor. Megatron was too good to him, far better than he deserved. Rodimus felt a large hand settle on the back of helm and his body automatically began to relax at the protective gesture.

Megatron’s voice rumbled against the side of Rodimus’ face. “My prime, why would you hurt yourself? Do I not make it clear how adored you are by me?”

Rodimus pulled back far enough so that he could gaze up at the ex-warlord. He felt far more calm than he did moments earlier. “It’s not your fault, Megs, I just-“ The younger mech swallowed thickly, nervous to bare his spark this way. “Sometimes I- I can’t stop remembering-“ 

Megatron stepped back slightly and took Rodimus’ wrist in his servo. The injury, so small to start with, had already begun to heal itself. One black finger swept over the mark, smearing some of the previously lost energon across the surface of Rodimus’ protoform. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No, no, I swear.” Rodimus words came out in a rush, desperate and afraid. Truly, he hadn’t done it before. But the thought of Megatron realizing how pathetic he had become- “I’m so sorry-“

“Do not apologize, my Sun.”

Rodimus despised the way his voice was weak with desperation, how his field felt so strangled with his next words. “Please don’t go.”

Megatron was stunned for a moment before he firmly pulled Rodimus back against his chest. “I would never leave you, Rodimus. I'll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

Rodimus felt tears jump into his optics again and his intake grew tight. He blinked rapidly and tried to give Megatron his trademark confident smile. It must’ve fallen short because Megatron only smiled sadly down at him. The silver mech raised his servos to frame Rodimus’ face. “May I kiss you?”

When Rodimus nodded, Megatron lowered to press his mouth to his conjunx’s. Rodimus shivered at the gentle way with which he was treated by the larger mech. Megatron always touched him and treated him as if he were some precious, irreplaceable treasure. He stretched as tall as he could, trying to get closer to the taller mech.

When Megatron finally pulled away with a chuckle, Rodimus struggled up onto the tips of his peds as he tried to keep their lips together. Megatron must’ve recognized something in the young prime’s field as he pulled away. Before Rodimus could ask, Megatron’s lips were on his again, more fervent and hungry than before. Before he could suppress it, Rodimus released a pleased moan from deep in his chest.

Megatron pulled back to speak, but remained close enough that their lips brushed when he did. “What will you have of me, my prime?”

Rodimus reached up to catch Megatron’s lower lip briefly. “I- um-“

Megatron shifted slightly so he could look Rodimus in the eye. “Rodimus, we do not have to do anything at all. If you’d rather, we can go straight to recharge.”

The flame-colored mech hesitated a moment longer before answering. “Could we merge? I just- I need it tonight.” Rodimus fidgeted in Megatron’s arms. Inwardly, Megatron was amused. Rodimus should've known by now that Megatron couldn't deny him anything.

The smaller of the two gasped as he was easily swung up to rest in his conjunx’s arms. Rodimus laughed quietly as Megatron’s field caressed his own, filled with giddy love and desire. Megatron grinned down at the mech he’d come to love and cherish. There was nothing that could compare to moments like those, when they were together.

But as he looked down at Rodimus, sudden fear consumed the usually unshakable ex-warlord. The prime had become everything to him in such a short amount of time. Yet somehow, Rodimus just couldn’t seem to grasp just how much he meant to his co-captain. The thought that he’d somehow failed to communicate his feelings to his Sun… “Rodimus?”

“Yeah, Megs?”

Megatron, for the second time that night, let the annoying nickname slide. “I need you to promise me something.”

The warm look in Rodimus’ optics faultered momentarily. “Okay, what is it?”

“I need to know that you’ll never harm yourself again. If you feel the urge, promise that you’ll come find me.” Megatron’s field hugged tightly around them both. “You’re far too precious to me, my little prime.”

Rodimus nodded and leaned in to press his forehelm against Megatron’s. “I promise.”

Peace came over Rodimus as Megatron held him close, purring low in his chassis. It wouldn’t be easy to let go of all the things that haunted him. There would be times that he’d stumble. But Rodimus knew that Megatron would always catch him when he did.


End file.
